


I'm Always Sentimental 'Round This Time

by asoftplacetoland



Series: Christmas Time Is Here (In July) [1]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Baking, Christmas, Christmas Cards, Christmas Cookies, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Tree, Fluff, Humor, Husbands, M/M, So Married, so much love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:13:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25395955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asoftplacetoland/pseuds/asoftplacetoland
Summary: Three of the holiday traditions David and Patrick experience their first Christmas as husbands.Part one of a series of one-shots that can be read alone or as a series. This is my contribution to Christmas in July Week 2020: a totally made up personal challenge of one Christmas fic each day until Christmas in July. Come get festive!
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Christmas Time Is Here (In July) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1839364
Comments: 29
Kudos: 94





	I'm Always Sentimental 'Round This Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Julywonder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Julywonder/gifts), [Olive31](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Olive31/gifts).



> Guess who missed posting daily ficlets so much she decided Christmas in July was going to be a THING this year?!
> 
> IT ME.
> 
> The plan is six days of six brand new fics exploring different parts of David and Patrick's first Christmas at their own (The Holiday) cottage.
> 
> Today's prompt was 'Christmas Traditions' and I asked some of my sweet friends for ideas and they more than delivered. So [Julywonder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Julywonder/pseuds/Julywonder) and [Olive31](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Olive31/pseuds/Olive31), this one's for you two! Oh, also, the title comes from the song "An Old Christmas Card" by the incomparable Jim Reeves.

The tasteful blue, gold, and silver Christmas decorations David customized for Rose Apothecary’s sand and stone color palette go up the last week of November. Fresh pine garlands hang from all the shelves and dozens of strings of twinkling fairy lights hang from the ceiling like a canopy of stars in the winter sky. David and Patrick had spent hours setting up the decorations with a carefully curated playlist of Mariah Carey, Michael Bublé, and Judy Garland Christmas hits playing softly in the background. They were both exhausted by the time they were done but then Twyla arrived with two paper cups of hot tea and a warm plate of the chocolate chip cookies and they find the strength to clean up and head home after enjoying the cookies and tea on the couch in the backroom, eaten between chocolate flavored kisses.

They stock plenty of Christmas ornaments as they did last year but this year, Patrick took over a little of the Christmas inventory. His new additions include homemade candy canes, fudge, and toffee from a candy maker in Elm Glen and wooden sleds made by Jake. Both David and Patrick blush and stammer like fools when he drops them off in a large sack, wearing a festive red cable knit sweater that clings to his biceps, and calling himself ‘Santa’ but they do sell well so Patrick can’t complain. For his final new product, Patrick chooses a plethora of hand painted Christmas cards made on a heavy cardstock that remind him of the cards his dad used to buy when they sent out their family Christmas cards when he was growing up. David’s sweaters have gotten a little thicker to accommodate the early winter chill that has started to overtake the town and Patrick has started wearing the flannel lined jeans that David says make him look ridiculous even when Patrick notices him staring more often than he usually does.

The first Monday in December, David arrives back from a vendor visit to pick up a special order of peppermint lip balm and cinnamon candles around noon. The door swings open a bit roughly from the wind but David looks perfect as always in his [black peacoat](https://www.bloomingdales.com/shop/product/barena-petrone-regular-fit-double-breasted-coat?ID=3439196&CategoryID=1005055), fuzzy white sweater, and black boots. Patrick smiles when he notices the gray knitted scarf his mother had sent them in a care package a couple weeks before wrapped around David's neck. David’s carrying a small box in his arms but it’s not nearly big enough to be their vendor order. Before Patrick can say anything, David steps up to the counter and tips the box onto it. A flurry of Christmas cards spill across the counter and Patrick smiles at them.

“What were all of these doing in our mail box?” David asks in lieu of a greeting as Patrick reaches for the first card. The envelopes from the cards have been somewhat hastily torn into; David always gets so excited about opening the mail and Patrick finds it endearing. Each envelope bears their home address so David must have made a quick stop by the cottage on his way back from the vendor for some reason. As if David can hear his line of thought, he sets a small thermos on the counter with a sigh.

“Yes, I did stop for lunch at home, but I also brought you some of that amazing butternut squash soup from dinner last night because I’m a good husband.” David says almost defensively. Patrick grins at him and sets the thermos to the side and leans over the counter to give David a kiss. David meets him halfway but it’s a chaste peck of a kiss because he immediately goes back to the cards.

“You didn’t answer my question. Why is our mailbox stuffed with cards?” David asks and he looks so frazzled that Patrick nearly laughs but then he sees a nervous look in David’s eyes.

“Oh…they’re just Christmas cards, David. Didn’t you read any of them?” Patrick picks up the first one, a lovely red one trimmed with gold borders with a large Christmas tree on the front and begins to read.

_David,_

_Merry Christmas to my favorite ex-employee and his new husband! I can’t believe you two got hitched, good for you, kiddo! I wish you both all the best in the year to come. Take it from me, marriage is no picnic but I’m sure you two will turn out all right. As you may have heard, I’m single again but you can’t keep a girl down, I’ve been very active on several dating apps and it’s been going extremely well…_

David snatches the card from Patrick’s hands and bites his lip on a smile as he continues reading while Patrick grabs another. This card is cream colored and a little heavier and features what looks like a bunch of goats hitched up to Santa’s sleigh. He almost doesn’t have to open this one to see who it’s from. David finishes up reading the first card, his eyebrows high on his forehead by the time he's done.

“From Wendy? Why would she send me a Christmas card?” David mutters as Patrick starts reading the second card.

_David and Patrick,_

_It’s been an absolute pleasure doing business with you the past two years! I just wanted to send you a card to wish you both Merry Christmas and to let you know that you’re welcome to drop by the farm anytime to pick up a Christmas cheese board on the house for my two favorite business owners. Looking forward to another wonderful year with Rose Apothecary. I hope you both have a wonderful holiday and a perfect start to the new year._

_All the best,_

_Heather Warner_

David’s adorably puzzled face is so cute Patrick has to lean across the counter again just to kiss it. David starts picking at the other cards.

“Why are all of these people sending us Christmas cards?” David asks and Patrick shrugs.

“Guess they like us? It’s kind of a thing. My mom used to mail ours out with a little letter each year to catch our distant relatives up on new things going on in the family. Didn’t, um, your parents…” Patrick trails off when David gives him a look. “Fair enough.” David gently scoops the cards back into the box he brought them in.

“Well I suppose we’ll need to send some cards out then.” David says and Patrick can’t help but feel a pang of fear when he sees David's eyes land on Ray’s card, a simple glossy picture of Ray in reindeer antlers in front of a clearly green screened North Pole that says "Have a Sleigh Full of Fun this Holiday Season!" in cartoonish red letters.

“No posed pictures this time I promise. I can just use one of the ones from our wedding.” David tells him with a wave of his hand. Patrick almost forgets about the conversation in the bustle of the season but David starts stringing the cards up in the hallway near the front door using some silver wire and teeny tiny clothespins so they can still read the inside of each. They get cards from vendors, many of the residents of Schitt’s Creek (some are mailed and others just wind up stuffed in their mailbox, much to David’s chagrin), from Patrick’s friends from the local theater group he joined, from David’s friends from the yoga class in Elmdale he’d started going to right after they got married to distract himself from the absence of Rose family breakfasts at the cafe.

An enormous silver and gold card arrives along with a box containing a dozen of David’s favorite bagels and smoked salmon from New York. Patrick is the one who opens it and thus has the privilege of being doused in a bit glitter, perfume, and a quickly scrawled Christmas greeting from Alexis. She’ll be at the Rose family Christmas party they’d agreed to host in a few weeks but apparently the temptation to send them a glitter bombed Christmas card was too great. David’s so excited about the bagels, Patrick puts himself in charge of their safe keeping, doling out one each morning from the freezer to ensure they last more than a week. They don’t but they do last more than a few days so Patrick’s going to call that a win.

Patrick’s parents send them a lovely blue and white card decorated with a very sweet manger scene and a tin of Patrick’s favorite gingersnap cookies that his mom makes during Christmas each year. David’s parents surprise them both with a simple card with a silvery menorah on it and a gift certificate to the fancy steakhouse they both adore in Elm Ridge for a “festive espoused sup” as a way of saying thank you for hosting the Christmas party this year.

Patrick has nearly forgotten all about sending their own card out until David calls him into his studio late one night. When they moved in, Patrick took the downstairs office for obvious reasons, but David had fallen in love with the tight corner bedroom upstairs with the large window. He’s since made the room into a hodgepodge of his interests that he calls his studio. A yoga mat and exercise ball rest in the corner near a tidy bookshelf containing various art books and cook books he’s found around at yard sales and antique stores over the years. The famous framed receipt from their first sale at the store hangs about the drafting desk David is currently bent over. It’s nearly bedtime so he’s already dressed in his pajamas with his feet tucked into his house Uggs to prevent the chill from the wooden floorboards.

“Come here, I need you to come sign these too.” David says, patting the stool he’s set up next to his desk. Patrick sits on the stool and stares down at a pile full of the some of the most beautiful Christmas cards he’s ever seen. Each card is covered with the crisp outline of a holiday themed item and then painted in a wash of colors, dark reds and greens and purples and golds and silvers and dark blues. There are Christmas trees and presents with large bows and wreaths and nutcrackers and even a few menorahs if he looks closely at the pile. Patrick picks up one and is surprised to see David has written a full response in his tidy, small handwriting.

_Linda,_

_Thank you so much for the Christmas card! My husband Patrick and I are doing well. We are enjoying married life and the store has never been better, as I’m sure you know from your frequent trips. We’re so happy you love our body milk so much! Mom and Dad are well in Los Angeles and Alexis is thriving in New York and we are hosting all three of them for the holidays. Patrick has been busy with his new theater group in Elmdale—_

Patrick sets the card down and picks up another and another and is delighted by the personalized greetings and how each response is different. David tells people about Patrick’s baseball team and his theater group and the little home improvement projects they’ve done around the house and about the store and their families and it’s so domestic and each time David writes _**my husband Patrick**_ on a card, it fills him with a deep warmth. Most of these people surely know Patrick and that they're married but the fact that David has decided to emphasize it on almost every card is one of the most adorable things Patrick has ever seen. Furthermore, _his husband_ _David_ not only made their Christmas cards, but he told everyone how their life together is worth writing down, is worth being pressed into a beautiful Christmas card and sent out to their loved ones. And, apparently, to Ernesto their wine supplier.

“David, these are wonderful.” Patrick eventually manages and David’s proud little smile is far more beautiful than the cards.

“Thank you. All they need now is your signature and then we can drop them off at the post office on our way to the Heather’s to pick up our cheeseboard tomorrow. I deserve cheese after all this Christmas crafting.” David says with a fluttery wave of his hand, but Patrick can tell he’s happy with the cards. Patrick shakes his head fondly and signs below David’s own loopy signature on each card, drawing a heart between their signatures that makes David complain about ruining the design even as he tangles their feet together below the desk.

* * *

David is getting better at the whole Christmas thing. The past couple of years with his family and now Patrick by his side, he’s taken a whole new shine to the season. The idea of a holiday season that celebrates the good in the world used to really annoy him but now he can’t help but want to be involved. For the first time in his life, he well and truly feels at home and at peace and so when Patrick asks him to go to a tree farm, it only takes the mention of hot cider donuts to make him agree to it. What he did not agree to was the early morning wake up call the last chilly Saturday in November.

“C’mon sleeping beauty, it’s time to go pick a tree!” Patrick sing songs in his ear and David swats a hand out. Patrick laughs and David can feel his weight shift off the bed. “If you’re going to be a brat, then I will just drink this special homemade peppermint mocha I made for you.” Patrick teases and David opens an eye to confirm he’s not joking and indeed in his hand is a travel mug that smells like chocolate and peppermint and sweet, sweet coffee. When David reaches for it, Patrick takes a step back. “No, get ready first and then you get your treat.” Patrick say evenly and David pouts until Patrick finally sighs and hands him the coffee. David takes a sip of the drink and then extracts himself from the blankets, pressing a kiss of thanks to Patrick’s cheek even as Patrick swats him on ass as he walks by.

David gets dressed and halfway through his skin routine, Patrick takes his mug for a refill and returns with one of David’s unashamedly favorite pumpkin spice granola bars because he’s truly the best husband anyone could ask for. They head down the stairs and before they step out the door, Patrick shoves a knit beanie over his hair that reminds David to pick up another curl treatment for them as an apology the next time he puts in an order for his own hair products. The drive to the Christmas tree farm looks like a scene from a Christmas card. The sun has barely risen and it reflects beautifully off the light dusting of snow they must have gotten over night and Patrick’s folk Christmas playlist is playing softly in the background.

_It's coming on Christmas_

_They're cutting down trees_

_They're putting up reindeer_

_And singing songs of joy and peace_

_Oh I wish I had a river I could skate away on_

David uses the quiet moment to sip at his coffee and watch Patrick against the backdrop of the soft early wintery landscape outside. Patrick is dressed in a red flannel that screams lumberjack (or Stevie), faded jeans, and his stupid ‘Oprah on Thanksgiving Day hike' boots and David wants to make fun of his outfit so badly, but he actually looks kind of insanely attractive in it. His sleeves are rolled up to show a tantalizing bit of forearm and he’s got one hand on the wheel and the other on his own travel mug of peppermint mocha. Patrick will make an exception every once and a while and indulge in a seasonal latte and the peppermint ones happen to be his favorite. He looks relaxed and happy and David’s gaze lingers a bit on the wedding band on his hand on the steering wheel.

“I can feel you staring, you know. Got something on your mind?” Patrick asks lightly and David shakes his head knowing Patrick will probably clock the motion in his peripheral vision.

“Nope, just looking at my very attractive husband in his tree hunting outfit.” David says and the curve of Patrick’s smile is worth all the early mornings in the world.

They arrive at the tree farm and pull into a spot near the road. David is grateful he decided on boots today because it really is chilly outside even with his favorite[ black coat](https://www.bloomingdales.com/shop/product/allsaints-hanson-coat?ID=3337147&CategoryID=1005055) and it hits all the way down his thighs. How Patrick is warm in his[ puffy looking blue jacket](https://www.thenorthface.com/shop/mens-jackets-vests-insulated/mens-summit-l3-down-hoodie-nf0a3sqj?variationId=JVL) is beyond David but he’s also happy to see Patrick is enjoying David’s most recent eBay acquisition after complaining about his coat being too bulky to hike in. Patrick must see him shiver because he takes David’s hand, laces their fingers together and then stuffs both their hands into his own jacket pocket. It should be awkward, but their slight height difference makes it work even though they now have to walk very close together. Patrick’s jacket is surprisingly warm, and David makes a pleased noise in the back of the throat when he catches sight of the sign that indicates the location of the promised fresh cider donuts and hot cider.

They order two small cups of the cider and four donuts and settle at one of the picnic tables beneath a patio heater while they wait for the tractor to return so they can pick out their tree. The donuts are still warm and taste like cinnamon and sugar and all the best parts of the quickly fading Fall and the cider brings out the lovely undercurrent of apple in the donut. When the tractor arrives, David feels prepared to brave the cold again and they sit on the cart behind it and ride out into the field. All around them are beautiful snow-covered pines but as they are driven further into the little man-made forest, the trees get taller and taller. David knows the vaulted ceiling of their living room will accommodate pretty much any of the trees around them but he’s planning on leaving the actual tree picking to Patrick. When the tractor comes to a stop, they thank the driver and he says he’ll be back to pick them up in fifteen minutes before heading back toward the farmhouse.

Patrick’s boots crunch lightly in the snow as he urges David further into the cluster of trees. The air smells clean and fresh, thick with the scent of pine and if David could capture this scent in a candle to sell at the store, they’d surely sell out the stock in a flash. The pines stand stoic and almost regal in front of them, each giving off an impression of immovability even though they were literally grown to be cut and moved into the homes of families across the region.

“Okay we’re looking for one about seven or eight foot, maybe nine if we’re lucky, and no holes.” Patrick tells him and before David can say anything slick in response, Patrick lightly bumps into him and points to the two little brown-haired girls in matching Christmas sweaters half running down the row across from them. Their parents appear a few steps behind them and the mom has her phone raised poised for pictures. She gives David and Patrick a cheerful little wave as she passes and David’s glad he kept his dirty comments to himself.

“Right. No holes, understood!” David says sunnily as Patrick snorts. They head in the opposite direction of the little family and suddenly one of the trees catches his eye. He wraps a hand around Patrick’s bicep to stop him from moving away and then points over at the tree. Patrick stops and takes it in with a smile. It’s easily the fullest of any of the trees they’ve seen, and it looks sturdy and strong. They quietly walk up to the base of it and David can immediately see it in their living room off to the side of their fireplace.

“Well done, David. Our first tree in our new home. It’s perfect.” Patrick says on a dreamy sigh and David squeezes him tight in a little half hug. When the tractor comes back, they indicate their tree and they wait for it to be cut beneath the heater at the picnic table with another round of cider and donuts.

Getting it home is a stressful affair that involves Patrick white knuckle driving while David tries to calm his panic at every errant noise. When they finally arrive at the cottage, it takes a lot of awkward shuffling, but they eventually maneuver the tree into the stand Patrick decided to set out before they got home, thank god. The tree looks just as perfect in their living room as David suspected and when he turns to tell Patrick as much, Patrick isn’t there. David turns on his heel and Patrick appears from the kitchen looking a little sheepish.

“So, I know you have that box of ornaments you damaged out from the store for the tree but I um, I ordered this a couple months ago.”

In Patrick’s hand is a simple white circle ornament with a pretty maroon ribbon hanger. It looks heavy, like it’s made of clay and when David gets close, he can see stamped and then painted into the clay in maroon letters:

**DAVID & PATRICK**

**MARRIED**

**09.03.18**

David swallows hard and holds out his hand and Patrick places the ornament in it. David traces a finger over their names and then looks hard at the tree.

“I suppose I can make an exception.” David says but he couldn’t keep the waver out of his voice if he tried and Patrick’s soft smile in return makes his stomach flip in excitement like it always does. David walks over to the tree and hangs the ornament in right in the center of it before stepping back to admire how the white pops against the dark green of the tree.

“I’m so glad you like it, David. But…you do know we have to string on the lights and put the garland on first, right?” Patrick tells him even as he slings an arm around David’s waist and grins at the tree. David rolls his eyes.

“You had to ruin the moment, didn’t you.” David says even as he laughs. Patrick nods cheerly and then heads off to get the lights.

“I made the moment; I can ruin it if I want to!” Patrick calls once he’s out of David’s reach so David punishes him by making him stand on the ladder to hang the lights. The view from below isn’t bad and it means he gets to control the Christmas playlist so Mariah, Kelly, and Whitney provide the soundtrack for their tree trimming. Before long, the tree is covered in silver and gold and glows warm with the lights so expertly wrapped around the it. Patrick moved the married ornament back front and center where David had originally hung it and they both turn out all the lights in the house and lay under the tree like children, staring up at the glowing decorations, smelling the sweet scent of pine, and whispering Christmas wishes back and forth to each other like promises.

* * *

Patrick reads an article about Christmas traditions while at the dentist’s office for a follow up on his wisdom teeth and he comes home with the brilliant idea that they should bake a traditional cookie recipe from each other’s heritage.

“That sounds mildly offensive.” David wrinkles his nose as he examines a jar of raspberry jam. “Besides, this hardly looks traditional for hamantaschen.” Patrick’s face lights up when he hears the word fall easily from David’s tongue.

“Ah so you’ve made them before?” He asks as David shakes his head.

“Nope but I have eaten my weight in them across lower Manhattan after an post-Valentine’s day breakup so I’m familiar.” David says and Patrick’s face does that cute thing where he looks like he wants to ask for the story but decides better of it. David notices the date doesn’t register so he decides to keep the fact that hamantaschen are traditionally made during Purim to himself rather than dull his excitement on finding a Jewish 'Christmas' cookie.

“Well at least you know what we’re making. I figured we’d try this [blueberry cream cheese one](http://mynameisyeh.com/mynameisyeh/2019/3/blueberry-cream-cheese-hamantaschen) only with raspberry jam because it’s more Christmassy and besides, how bad can that be?” David nods like truer words have never been spoken.

“Wait what about you? What are we making for your heritage?” Patrick pauses for a moment where he is setting out ingredients for the cookies.

“Oh I guess I was so excited about making Jewish cookies I didn’t really think about it?” Patrick admits with a blush and David huffs.

“Well that’s not fair. What heritage of yours are we celebrating?” David asks and Patrick looks thoughtful for a moment.

“I’m kind of a mix of European and French Canadian? I don’t know I don’t think about it much.” David stares at him and waves a hand in his general direction.

“Thank you so much, that’s not helpful at all. What European countries, Patrick? I need something to go on.” David pulls up his phone as Patrick considers this.

“I think on my mom’s side we had ancestors in England, Germany, and France.” David types in European Christmas cookies and cries out in delight.

“Aw, Patrick, we can make [gingerbread men](https://sallysbakingaddiction.com/best-gingerbread-cookies/)! That’s perfect!” Patrick nods with a smile.

“Yeah and I’m pretty sure we have molasses in the cupboard and plenty of powdered sugar to decorate. Pull up a gingerbread recipe and we’ll get started on that so we can give it time to chill in the fridge.” David drags the mixer Bob of all people had given them as a wedding present out of the corner it’s normally relegated to and onto the island in the center of their kitchen while Patrick gathers the ingredients together. They’ve both gotten into baking and cooking a bit more now that they’ve got their own home and plenty of space for both ventures. Patrick returns from his ingredient gathering with an apron for David and he has a dish towel thrown carefully over his own shoulder.

“You’ve got to stop watching Queer Eye, honey. What’s going to protect the rest of your clothes.” David tells him with a laugh as he ties the apron around his waist. Patrick shrugs.

“That’s why we’ve got a washing machine and we’ve only got the one apron so I think it’s better served protecting the designer ware.” David hums an affirmative and leans forward to peck a kiss to the corner of Patrick’s mouth as brings the ingredients over to the island.

“At least that gives me a jumpstart on the Christmas shopping…unless you’ve been snooping again, Patrick Brewer!” David notes the tips of Patrick’s ears are a little red and he swats him on the arm.

“Ugh, that’s it. I’m buying your presents with cash and storing them at Stevie’s. You’re going on the naughty list.” David pouts and Patrick tries to look very sorry, but David knows he isn’t. As much as Patrick likes surprises, he sometimes lets his excitement get away from him and will go snooping for gifts around holidays. It’s both cute and very _very_ annoying and David makes a note to move the pretty jasper guitar picks he’d already bought from his bedside table to the very top shelf in the storage room at the store that Patrick is too short to reach and too proud to use a step stool for.

“I promise I haven’t found anything but I did look at the top shelves in the bedroom closet the other day…” Patrick admits as he cuts tablespoons of butter into the bowl of the mixer. David rolls his eyes at his very predictable husband’s antics as he flicks on the switch and the mixer whirs to life.

“Your poor mother. I bet she couldn’t wrap presents because you were always peeling at the corners of them.” David says and Patrick’s resulting blush is so cute that he puts on a show of gasping. “Patrick! Oh my goodness, I can’t believe it! Who knew you had such a bad streak? You think you know a guy.” David teases and Patrick whips the towel off his shoulder and flicks it at David’s hip.

“I’ve gotten better! Honest. Can you pass the molasses?” David hands him the molasses and watches as he pours it into the little measuring cup. David’s still learning that baking is far less forgiving than cooking and he would’ve just poured in molasses until it looked dark and jammy. He follows Patrick’s lead and packs brown sugar into a measuring cup before dumping it in with the molasses and letting the mixer work his magic.

“I kind of like the idea of you being that excited for Christmas. All wide eyed and innocent with all those cute little curls.” David coos and Patrick rolls his eyes.

“This is why we don’t leave David and Mom alone for any length of time.” Patrick murmurs and David kisses him on the cheek as he starts to mix the dry ingredients together.

“I love Marcy time and besides I really loved the pictures of little you running around the backyard sprinklers half-naked. Sort of sad you outgrew that habit.” David says and the conversation quickly devolves into fits of laughter and teasing and it’s so domestic it makes David’s chest ache. Once the dough is mixed, Patrick makes sure to break off a piece for testing purposes and he feeds it to David before he cab snatch it out of his fingers. David closes his eyes and nods his approval and they wrap up two separate portions of the dough into plastic wrap and set it in the fridge to chill.

“Okay next up, hamanterschen.” Patrick murmurs as he looks up the recipe.

“Hamantaschen.” David corrects gently and Patrick smiles. The dough for the hamantaschen is less involved than the gingerbread but they both groan when they taste the sweet vanilla and lemon zest in the sugary dough. By the time both doughs are ready to roll out, David takes over the gingerbread and Patrick works to cut the hamantaschen into perfect circles. David’s got the gingerbread rolled out and looking beautiful before he can even finish cutting his circles. They work in companionable silence, David cutting out perfect gingerbread men and laying them on the baking trays while Patrick ends up using his fingers to spread the cream cheese out on the circles. He can feel David laughing at him when he’s finished with his gingerbread men.

“Looks like someone’s having fun.” David teases and Patrick flicks a bit of cream cheese at him. David shrieks and when Patrick glances up, he can see his aim is pretty good even in the off season because a glob of cream cheese rests high on David’s cheek.

“Oh I’m sorry let me get that for you.” Patrick says as he raises his cream cheese smeared fingers to make matters worse but David sees that coming from a mile way. David counters by scooping up a bit of the raspberry jam and smearing it on Patrick’s nose. Patrick half-shouts as the jam drips off his nose onto the counter and nearly lands on the cookies.

“Not the cookies! They don’t deserve this!” Patrick tries even as he flicks more cream cheese at David. Instead of retaliating with more jam, David pulls Patrick close by the hips.

“You’re right, looks beautiful.” David says as he wraps his arms around Patrick’s neck. “The cookies I mean, obviously.” Patrick makes a noise of an agreement, but David’s eyes are so full of warmth and love he knows he’s not talking about just the cookies. The press of their lips together is warm and they both taste like cookie dough and David tastes suspiciously like raspberry jam despite only working with the gingerbread dough. When they part, David runs a finger through the raspberry jam on Patrick’s nose and the proceeds to lick it off his finger, humming happily while Patrick makes a gagging noise at him. Patrick cleans his nose off with his towel and David lets him clean his face and then he even helps Patrick put the jam on the cookies and seal them up into little triangles.

They bake all the cookies in shifts and the kitchen quickly becomes a mess of cooling trays. The scent of butter and sugar fills the air and they both quickly decide on ordering takeout as soon as they're done. The gingerbread cools faster and David immediately sets about decorating. He pulls the sprinkles they’d use to decorate the obnoxious five tier funfetti cake they’d made Stevie for her birthday this year. David decorates most of them with little bow ties and sprinkle buttons but he spends a particularly long time bent over working on two cookies in particular before he lets Patrick see the finished product.

“It’s us!” David says with a flourish and sure enough, it’s their gingerbread look alikes. David’s is dressed in what looks like a icing version of his favored neil barrett lightning bolt sweater and each lightning bolt is outlined in carefully placed white nonpareils. His eyes and hair are made of black gel icing that David must have found hiding in the back of the cabinet and his icing mouth is curved up in a smirk. Gingerbread Patrick is holding a guitar across his body and is dressed in a blue sweater somehow. Patrick glances across David’s workstation and sees the tiny bowl of tinted icing and the uncapped food coloring and it makes his heart skip a beat because David went through the trouble of making blue icing just for a joke. The guitar strings are outlined in black and apparently David got tired of tinting icing and so the hair is a swoop of molasses that probably won’t taste very nice but Patrick loves it. David snaps a picture with his phone and then picks up the little Patrick gingerbread man like he’s going to bite it.

“No! Don’t!” Patrick cries and David gives him a look, one elegant eyebrow raised and a smirk forming on his face not unlike his own gingerbread counterpart. “Just…you worked so hard. Maybe we can hang onto them for a little while?” Patrick suggests. David’s resulting smile is even brighter than the lights on their tree. They pile some of the non descript gingerbread onto a plate along with the cooled hammatschen and venture over to the couch along with two tall glasses of milk. David only makes fun of the ice in Patrick’s milk with a raised eyebrow. "It makes it taste better to have it be super cold!" Patrick says in his defense. They settle on the couch in the glow of the tree and trade bites of their cookie creations.

“I’d say we’ve got two Christmas cookie keepers!” Patrick says around a bite of hamantaschen and David bites his lip.

“Well, yes they are both good but…” David trails off and Patrick follows his gaze to the cookie in Patrick’s hand when it suddenly dawns on him.

“Wrong time of year?” Patrick says with a sigh and David nods.

“You were just so excited, and they are definitely Jewish! At least we’ll be ready to go for Purim!” David smiles, poking Patrick’s pouty face with a soft fingertip. “Besides, I think this could be a fun tradition, making dishes from each other’s heritage until we find some that stick. Maybe next year we can try some latkes?” Patrick’s smile brightens.

“Why wait until next year. I want to get it right, maybe Brebner’s is still open…” Patrick starts to get up but David drags him back down with a laugh.

“Oh no you don’t, we are going to enjoy our cookies and then order takeout and watch a Christmas movie. Besides, traditions take years to develop.” David waves his hand toward the plate of cookies. “This was a good first attempt. Maybe next year we’ll pull from the French side, try making some macarons.” David closes his eyes in pleasure as Patrick steals another gingerbread cookie off the plate.

“I don’t think we’re going to be good enough at cookie baking in a year for macarons but keep dreaming, David. You know I’m all for your creative input.” Patrick says and David gives him an unimpressed stare.

“Sure you are. Well my addition to this little cookie baking tradition is that we order Thai food and eat it out of the containers while watching _A Christmas Story_. I’ll even order the food and go with you to pick it up.” David offers and Patrick kisses him on the cheek.

“Sounds like the perfect tradition in the making.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments mean the world to us writers who function on coffee, rom com tropes, and the sweet nectar of virtual pats on the back from our dear readers.


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